


Languorous

by distantstarlight



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Time, Friends to Lovers, Johnlock - Freeform, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4167525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have been through a lot but one of the things they do well together is cases. It isn't a surprise that they get called out of town but what about what happens in their hotel room?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Languorous

**Author's Note:**

> I had an urge to give this a try

Graphic: sleep__i__m_here_by_draloreshimare

 

After years together and some apart John and Sherlock managed to stumble past all obstacles almost by accident. There was a case outside London, a festival in the town in question, a real shortage of available hotel space, hours of chases through the cold, and two exhausted men who settled for the first room with hot running water they came across. It theoretically had a double bed, if the two people in it were thinner than Sherlock and shorter than John but they were so tired they didn’t care. Two brief hot showers later and both of them climbed under the sturdy linen sheets and woolen blankets wearing only their pants and dropped right off to sleep without a word of goodnight.

Sherlock was still mostly asleep when his hand began to wander. Whatever he was touching was silky and warm, yielding but firm. He liked it and dozed heavily in a cocoon of utter contentment. His entire body was relaxed, still a bit tired, but oh so comfortable. Sherlock fell back asleep the rest of the way, his hand settling between something warm and tight.

John was logy with exhaustion still but something fluttered over his skin in the most delicious way. His breathing grew rapid for a moment but his weariness could not be argued with. For a moment there was vague awareness as something firm inserted itself high between his thighs, lodged snugly beneath his testicles and gripping his leg lightly. It was oddly comforting and without a worry John drifted deeper into sleep.

Another hour or more drifted by with neither man moving before both of them shifted in their sleep. Sherlock curled up and pillowed his head on John’s soft belly when John rolled to his back and shoved his hand down Sherlock’s pants to cup one generous cheek. Neither man seemed to notice the intimacy of their sleeping postures and indeed continued to sleep deeply.

Sherlock’s wandering hand explored again, stealing its naughty way into John’s pants, a fair situation since John’s fingers had spread over his arse, and the doctor’s middle finger was wedged between Sherlock’s lush buttocks. John sighed a bit when Sherlock’s fingers wrapped around his soft cock, the detective pulling himself closer to the quiescent member and unconsciously angling his own backside closer to John’s hand and appreciatively the doctor rubbed his hand up and down Sherlock’s crease before stilling back into sleep once more.

As dawn came and went John’s normal biological alarm clock activated but such was his weariness the soldier kept sleeping even as his cock grew and lengthened. Sherlock’s dreams involved something velvety and warm pressing against his mouth, something was moist and reflexively he licked. The strange something was warm and salty, bitter in a way but nothing about it disturbed the mostly sleeping man whose tongue lazily lapped a second time before Sherlock’s cupid bow lips parted and sucked the warm mass in, contentedly allowing his tongue to stroke and toy with the delicate surface, dreamily cataloguing the textures and flavors. His hand slid down and encountered something warm and soft, furry and just big enough to fill his palm. It felt good and with a sleepy moan he cupped the area and slid his hand back up a hard line toward his mouth. Something rubbed back and forth over his lips and his tongue and he liked the sensation as well as the taste. Without protest he allowed it to slide deeper, enjoying how his tongue pressed down, how the roof of his mouth had quality to it that was a pleasing contrast to the soft hardness of whatever he was savoring.

John sighed again. He felt so good. He was warm and relaxed and delicious tingles were beginning to radiate from his groin. With a barely conscious smile John rocked his hips, enjoying his erotic dream as he let his hand roam over the most heavenly arse he’d ever felt. Always daring John pressed inward and smiled again as the tip of his finger found a soft wrinkled bit of flesh that without reluctance accepted his swirling caress. John loved dreams like this and without fail he did the one thing he never did in real life, he reached down and tangled his fingers into the hair of his phantom lover and pushed down, sliding his cock inside the eagerly sucking mouth. The arse under his hand bucked and pushed against his questing finger so willingly John pressed a bit while his other hand pushed down rhythmically until it was exactly the pace he liked, a long and talented tongue rubbing exactly the way he needed, his balls being rolled perfectly and _oh_ this was the best dream ever.

Sherlock nearly moaned when he felt someone’s fingers on his scalp. He was still nearly fully asleep but his follicles were so sensitive that any sort of handling of his hair aroused him to the degree he’s learned to trim it himself to avoid devastating embarrassing situations at a barber’s. The mass in his mouth pushed deep and he almost choked, his hips pushing back into something firm and wonderful feeling. When the mass withdrew and plunged in again Sherlock almost moaned, it felt incredible to have his mouth invaded like this, his behind stimulated and teased. One deep thrust too many and Sherlock finally woke up.

John was getting close, it was going to happen. His belly tensed and his hips jerked suddenly just before his phantom lover disappeared. Disappointed John woke up and discovered his hand in Sherlock’s hair, his cock damp and jutting into the air, and his hand partially buried in Sherlock’s arse. “Oh my god I’m sorry!” he cried and tried to wiggle away.

Sherlock was startled, _very_ startled to say the least but John Watson’s cock was glistening right in front of him. It obviously had been in his mouth and he hadn’t minded but now it was trying to get away and after all the years he’d spent pining for John he wasn’t about to let it. Sherlock leaned in and swallowed John’s cock down as far as he could get it, pushing meaningfully at John’s hand until the dazed doctor began to move.

John was absolutely stunned. Sherlock was sucking his penis with clear enjoyment as John’s index finger began to push inside Sherlock’s fluttering hole just a bit. Shock gave way to concern and John pulled his hand away and made his fingers wet with saliva before returning them. There was no point in coyness so John began to fuck his finger into Sherlock’s arse as his flatmate fellated him.

John wasn’t leaving the bed! In fact the doctor had gone back to fingering his anus which felt amazingly good. If one finger felt good, and two fingers likely felt better, how good would it feel if Sherlock made it all the way up to the width of John’s delicious cock? Would John be willing to fuck him? A lazy and almost accidental blowjob wasn’t exactly…. “I want you.” groaned John. Sherlock felt the hand leave his hair as John shifted himself away, removing his cock from Sherlock’s reach but also burying his face between Sherlock’s arse cheeks which were quickly spread wide as John began to tongue him.

Sherlock wasn’t exactly sure how the transition happened in the small bed but somehow or other he was now kneeling over John, his arse planted firmly on the doctor’s face while John gripped his hips tight and stabbed his tongue into Sherlock again and again until he was just dripping. Sherlock sat there in the unlit room and panted as he felt John’s fingers return, nudging and stretching for the longest time. Every once in a while he’d reach down and stroke John’s cock, catching the precum on his fingertips and licking it hungrily. He leaned down and licked the tender skin on the inside of John’s thigh and felt himself being pushed forward so his chest and shoulders were on the mattress, his arse high in the air. John’s tongue was absent for only a second before it returned. His clever fingers returned and carefully checked to see if Sherlock was ready for him. Sherlock felt John pause and when he looked over his shoulder John was digging in the bedside drawer, extracting a packet of lube and a condom. He was quick and efficient with his preparations, returning to kneel behind Sherlock and without ado slicked his hole, twisting his fingers inside and rubbing lightly.

Sherlock’s eyes were wide open now as he felt John penetrate him. The experience was so new he almost couldn’t follow the rapid fire shift in his emotional and physical state as he engaged in a sexual act for the first time in his life. It felt very odd to know that another person was inserting themselves into his body. Now the detective knew that having something like a cock pushing his anus wide was very different than feeling fingers working in him, no matter how talented. Sherlock wanted to remember every microsecond of this first time so he lay his head down and closed his eyes, concentrating on what John was doing.

John had never felt anything like it. Sherlock’s arse was tight but not resistant. Raptly he watched as inch after inch of his shaft was swallowed up into that heat, the rings of muscles that grudgingly allowed him entrance squeezing his cock firmly. John pulled out nearly all the way and drizzled a little more lube on. At least the packets were a decent size and as soon as he was done John gently pushed into Sherlock until he was fully seated before encouraging the tall man to lay flat on the bed. John draped himself over Sherlock’s back and ever so softly he began to rock his hips.

The detective’s body was hard and lean, John enjoyed the strength of it as he kissed over Sherlock’s shoulders, nuzzling the back of his neck as he moved. He kept it slow and gentle, knowing full well that Sherlock was new to this, allowing the good feelings to build gradually as he kept his thrusts shallow and pressing rather than plunging. John liked to touch his lovers so he let his hands slide over whatever skin they could reach as he fucked Sherlock tenderly, just savoring the newness of it, the undeniable pleasure of it, how _right_ it felt.

Sherlock had never experienced anything like the moment he was sharing with John right now. No one had ever touched him like this or made him feel marvelous like this, in fact Sherlock had rigorously avoided intimacy with absolutely everyone but this wasn’t just anyone, this was John. Sherlock had never felt the need to be away from John, never felt the urge to pull back, or hide from his best friend. Maybe it had taken them an extraordinarily long time to get where they were right now but it was perfect, it was just what they both needed. Carefully he moved his hand and nudged John’s with it. Instantly the doctor covered it with his, their fingers tangling together as John began to move faster, pushing at a different angle until Sherlock found he was moaning softly into the sheets, his body growing tense and over-heated.

Sherlock enjoyed the way John’s breathing was becoming labored, how the rocking of his hips was becoming urgent as their good feeling grew stronger. Every so often John would manage to stimulate his prostate and each tease made Sherlock moan with greater volume until he was clutching the bedding with one hand, John’s hand with the other, and pushing his hips back with increased speed. Suddenly John’s forehead was pressed to the back of Sherlock’s neck as the doctor’s hand shimmied between the bed and his body to grasp his penis. John was stroking him in time with his thrusts which were growing quick and ragged. The soldier was moaning in tandem with the detective now, their bodies bucking together as the tension grew.

Sherlock managed to catch his breath the second before his orgasm overtook him, words falling from his lips in an incoherent mess. John was grunting rudely behind him, his cock now shoved as far as it would go and Sherlock felt it pulse inside him. His whole body was shaking, the astonishing levels of pleasure reaching rapturous levels almost instantly, making his eyes roll back and his spine twist a bit. Their bodies surged apart and together in a sensuous wave as delight filled both men from head to toe.

John couldn’t move at first. He was panting harshly into Sherlock’s sweaty back, his cock still buried deep. After a minute the worst of the post-orgasmic haze had burned away leaving John super-aware that he’d just fucked Sherlock rather hard and he hadn’t asked a single thing. “That was perfect.” rumbled Sherlock weakly, his arms hanging off the bed, “Everyone complains that their first time is the worst. If that’s true then I have zero complaints about potential follow-ups.”

John lay back and considered Sherlock’s words. Absently he was stroking Sherlock’s leg, “So this wasn’t a one-off?”

“John we’ve been more or less married for five years now. No. This wasn’t a one-off.” John didn’t want to laugh but he did. Sherlock was right. Ever since the day they’d met they’d been moving toward this. It was like the finish line of a long and incredibly convoluted race except now both of them were winners.

“Well now that I’ve ruined you I suppose I’ll have to change the _more or less_ into _actually_.” John was teasing when he said it but then he realized he was waiting with bated breath for Sherlock to answer, had he just proposed to his flatmate?

It was a long time before Sherlock answered, “That is a very old-fashioned notion John but in many ways I am a very old-fashioned person. If you were serious about it I would say yes gladly but only to you and no other.”

Now it was John’s turn to be silent as he considered his heart, “Then I suppose it’s lucky that I’m very serious.”

Sherlock began to squirm around until he was back on the pillows beside John, his eyes closed and his breathing beginning to even out. “Good but now I need to sleep again. Call in the room for another night John.”

Sherlock lay on the bed with his eyes closed but John knew he was listening as the doctor called the desk and arranged to keep their room for a while longer. Sherlock snorted when John asked for an attendant to send up more lubricant, “Make that two more days.” said the soldier, a leer in his voice, “No calls.”

Sherlock was already dozing off when John came back to bed after waiting for their delivery, his warm body fitting perfectly in Sherlock’s arms as the detective tugged a coverlet over them. John wiggled around a bit until he was snugged up tight, his voice already drowsy, “Night love.”

“Goodnight my love.” It was easy and sweet and just as it should be as the detective and his blogger caught up on some much needed rest, and a lot of loving. No more words were needed.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea and wrote it out....


End file.
